beneath my ribs

within his chest

they stir in unrest

with fists full of curls

and insults hurled

beneath the blackened curl

of gossip

and in the gaze of night

without succor of light

the cats fight and spit

for a neglected bit

of love’s respite


what i give

to kiss him awake

and borrow the pain

of woman’s bane

from my own brow

yet for now

none shall rend

the feminine

in the heart of any man

since Love builds my tent

where the world stands


©M.G. Iannucci 2018

Art by Miho Hirano

10 thoughts on “Pomegranates

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